


let me down (real slow)

by palateens



Series: Grand Larsony [9]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Self Confidence Issues, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:32:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palateens/pseuds/palateens
Summary: Lardo sighs in relief when he gets up slowly to leave. Crushes aren’t permanent. They fade with time and space.





	let me down (real slow)

The Aces win the Stanley Cup playoffs. Of course they do. There was never a doubt in Lardo’s mind that they would. The party starts as soon as the clock runs out on the third period and keeps going for a few days. She thought it would be a lot more like the year Jack won—where everyone partied extravagantly and at once. 

But the Aces are in the business of entertaining one of the most restless cities in the country, maybe the world. So the party starts in the locker room, and then the team divvies up the festivities into shifts. A group of the younger guys and players from the farm team go to an expensive night club to spend a lot at once. Some people go home and rest up for brunch the next day while others start planning the afterparty at the captains’ home. 

Holster gets pulled to club duty, so Lardo follows. They pace the drinks, because Ransom’s expecting them to be somewhat coherent for the afterparty. They stay up all night. Lardo thinks she’s ready to sleep once they get home, but that’s when the afterparty kicks into high gear. 

A lot of the people who show up, other than the team itself, are high-profile celebrities who didn’t have time to make it to the game itself. She honestly can’t believe some of the people who show up. But when she catches Kent and Ransom proudly fist bumping, it all makes sense. 

Brunch is a tired blur of getting enough food in their systems and recovering a bit on mimosas. She finally gets a nap when Ransom and Holster drag her to bed as some of the early risers transition brunch into the afternoon pool party/barbecue for the players’ families. 

Somehow, their houses filter hundreds of people for the next two days. When one party stops, another starts. People sleep, sure. But people get lost in a tangle of energy and bodies. 

It’s on the third day, as the sun’s going down and a keg is being wheeled into the backyard as a DJ sets ups for the LA guests to arrive, that she finally takes a moment for herself. She starts dozing off on one of the pool chairs when someone sits down next to her.

“Wiped out?” Ozzy voice floats calmly into her ear. 

“Kinda,” she says as she groans, turning over so she’s facing him. 

Her eyes are closed, but she hears the little huff he gives. She cracks a lid open, appreciating the endearing smirk he’s giving her. 

“Just go to bed, you’ve partied enough,” he says. 

“It’s kinda hard when music’s blasting all the fucking time.” 

“Weren’t you bragging yesterday about living in a frat house?” Ozzy chirps.

“It wasn’t a frat house,” she argues. “And they were hockey players. They didn’t party at all hours of the fucking day.” 

“Sounds fake, but ok,” he says. 

She grumbles quietly about fighting words. 

“Mind if I join you in your futile nap?” he asks after a second. 

“Sure,” she says as she scoots back. 

He lies down next to her. He pulls her into his chest, and she sighs contentedly. Ozzy’s safe. Not in a “comfortable platonic” way, but in a “is safe to be real around” way. She buries her head into his chest. 

“Is this ok?”

“Yea,” she murmurs. 

They don’t talk for a long time. She tunes out the chatter and white noise of dozens of people setting up behind them. When things starts to get louder and brighter, she hugs him tighter. 

“Let’s just go inside,” he says. 

“What’s the use?” 

“The basement’s soundproof,” Ozzy says. 

Lardo glares. “Why the fuck is this the first I’m hearing about this?” 

“Because you’re terrible at admitting when you’re overstimulated.”

She doesn’t argue as she reluctantly gets up, letting him take her by the hand as he leads her to the basement. It takes a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer lights and quiet of the basement. But when she does, she realizes that half the residents of their homes are camped out watching Die Hard. 

The sectional isn’t as nice as the one upstairs, but it’s just as big. The area rug looks so plush she could fall asleep on it. Her back is so stiff from standing nonstop the last few days that she just flops onto the rug. She sighs in content. 

“Lards, holy fucking shit, how are you still alive right now?” Holster says somewhere behind her. 

“Shhh,” Lardo says. “Everything is so loud.” 

She hears someone shuffle behind her. Ozzy sits down next to her, offering ear plugs. 

“You need these more than I do,” he says. 

Lardo can’t tell if it’s the overstimulation or if she’s just exhausted, but she tears up a little bit as she murmurs a quiet thanks. Ozzy ends up sitting with her as the movie plays. Eventually, she falls asleep with her head in his lap. She doesn’t think about how nice it is to have him there. She doesn’t fall asleep wondering if they could just skip over awkward discussion and just be something. She doesn’t because she is extremely sure that he doesn’t feel for her the way she does for him. And that’s ok. 

_/.\\_ 

The next Sunday, Lardo’s napping on a pool floatie when someone jumps in, soaking her with no warning. She yelps, accidentally falling into the water. She screams. 

“What the fuck—” she squeaks when Ozzy picks her up in a bone crushing hug. 

She laughs hugging him back. 

“You’re a jerk,” she murmurs. 

“You thought it was funny,” he chirps. 

His lips are only an inch away from hers. He’s so warm and gentle. She blushes before dunking herself back in the water. The water brings her mind back into focus. She doesn’t get to have romantic feelings about her platonic friends. She just doesn’t. This isn’t how it works. 

When she comes up, Jeff and Holster are jumping in too. She sighs in relief. 

It’s tempting, but she can’t. She won’t make this little crush a bigger deal than it needs to be. 

_/.\\_ 

A few days later, Holster decides to interrupt her mural on Ransom’s back with a lecture. He decides to angle himself in just the right position so he’s blocking the sun. She puts down her brush and takes off her sunglasses to glare at him. 

“What?” she demands.   

“Ok Rans and I—” he starts. 

“Leave me out of this,” Ransom says. “I told you I’d be a hypocrite if I got in the middle of this.” 

“Ok, fine,” Holster concedes. “Goose, Perry, and I think you’re being really fucking stubborn.”

Lardo rolls her eyes. “About what?”

“About Oz.” 

Lardo puts her sunglasses back on. “What do you want me to tell you Holtzy? I have a crush, it’ll go away. No big deal.”

“Yes big deal. Huge deal!” 

“I’m not getting my fucking hopes up for someone who’s way out of my league,” she insists. 

Ransom snorts. 

“What?”

“You’re out of his league? Lardo, you’re out of my league. You’re out of everyone’s league...except maybe Kent’s. You’re both in the same league,” Ransom says. 

“Noted,” she says. “And will be disputed the next time I whoop his ass at pong.” 

“See!” Holster shouts. “That’s my fucking point. You’re the most interesting, amazing woman alive. You breathe confidence. But the second a cute guy’s in the picture—”

“Hey, buddy,” Lardo says. “I think my boyfriends would be offended if you keep talking like that.” 

Ransom shrugs. “How long did it take you to get the courage up to come see us? Weeks? Years?” 

Lardo glares before sighing. She rips her glasses off and rubs her temple. She wipes something from the corner of her eye. The stench of chlorine from the pool must be getting to her. 

“Ok, so maybe I’m chickenshit at feelings.”

Holster’s eyes soften. “That’s not true, Lards.” 

He pulls her into a hug. She clings to him a little too tightly. 

“You’ve had your heart ripped out a few times, I get it,” he says. “Believe me, we fucking know what that feels like. And if you don’t wanna try new people ever again because you have us that’s fine. Fuck, that’s more than fine.” 

“Where’s the ‘but’ Birkholtz?” she mutters. 

“You shouldn’t be in your own way,” he says. “And sometimes...ok, more than sometimes, you see something risky and decide it isn’t worth it.” 

“Because it’s not.”

“Or maybe you think  _ you _ aren’t worth it,” Holster says. 

Something wet slips down her cheek. “Shut up.” 

“Gladly,” he says lightly. 

Ransom comes up behind them, kissing the back of her head as he hugs them both. 

“We love you,” Ransom reiterates. “You’re ours, and we love you. But it’s ok to do shit for yourself, ok? We’ll catch you if you fall.” 

Lardo nods as she clears her throat. “I’ll think about it, ok?” 

She knows it isn’t the answer they were hoping for, but it’s all she can give them right now. 

_/.\\_

 

She spends most of Kent’s birthday setting up for a dinner party with Ozzy. Kent finally put his foot down and asks for something a little less outrageous than an all-day party. She thinks the biggest reason they threw such a rager for the Cup win was because they know it’ll be hard to get the Aces another win before Goose and Perry retire. Which isn’t going to be tomorrow, but could be in a year or so, since Kent’s itching to settle down. Everyone knows it’s their team. They made it what it is, and it won’t be the same without any of the 2011 team on the roster. In a way, it’s a farewell on a high note. 

Lardo’s working on appetizers while Ozzy’s keeping an eye on the tamales. Ransom’s someone nearby making last-minute calls to the baker they hired for the evening. Bitty’s somewhat annoyed he couldn't bake the birthday cake, but he was put on distraction duty along with Parker. Lardo’s convinced Ransom did that in hopes they’d (believably) fake argue to stall for time. 

Ozzy pulls her out of her musings when he hip checks her lightly. She glares half-heartedly. 

“You’re the worst,” she says jokingly. 

“C’mon, you’ve been working too hard,” he says, offering her a hand to dance. 

He’s lighter on his feet than she assumed he’d be. He guides them around the kitchen island, expertly maneuvering around kitchen appliances and food displays. 

“You’re just full of surprises,” she says. 

“Only because I like seeing the smile on your face when I pull out a new trick,” he says. 

“So that’s what you call dancing now a days? A trick?” 

“Well, it’s a little more than a trick…” He dips her carefully. “It’s a few summers living with mis abuelos in New Mexico.” 

She laughs as he helps her up. Out of instinct or just pure excitement, she wraps pulls him closer. 

“You’ve got something on you,” he says. 

“Where?” 

He pokes her cheek. “Right here.” 

Lardo tries wiping it off. She doesn’t feel anything. “Did I get it?” 

“No, here let me,” he says before licking her cheek unceremoniously. 

Lardo gawks. “You’re dead.” 

She might chase him halfway around the house. She might tackle him onto a bed a proceed to lick his cheek in vengeance. But she does not kiss him. Because someone shouts for Ozzy and she chickens out. 

Lardo sighs in relief when he gets up slowly to leave. Crushes aren’t permanent. They fade with time and space. Maybe if time won’t help her, space will. 

_/.\\_ 

A few weeks later, Ransom and Holster are out on a date, and she stays home for the night. She settles for playing Crypt of the Necrodancer and gets through the first room when Carter sits down next to her. 

“Mind if I watch?” he asks. 

“Not at all,” she says amicably.

They sit in silence for a while. 

“You know what the dumbest thing about middle school was?” Carter says out of the blue. 

“How no one would admit they had fucking feelings for each other so it was a huge fucking game of ‘he said, she said, they said’?”

“Exactly,” he agrees. 

Lardo hums in agreement, not taking her eyes off the screen. She feels Carter shift next to her. 

“So why haven’t you asked Ozzy out yet?” 

Lardo snorts. “Why would I do that?” 

“Because you’re completely hung up on him,” Carter says. 

She doesn’t look away from the screen. “Plead the fifth.” 

“You like him, he likes you,” Carter insists. “What’s the hold up?” 

She pauses the game. “He doesn’t like me. To quote your hypocritical middle school—”

“Why do you think he doesn’t?” 

“He’s aro-spec, he has you,” Lardo says. 

“You know being aromantic means there are less people you’re romantically attracted to,” he says after a moment. “Not that you’re like a match, and you can only fall in love once?” 

Lardo chews her lip. “Ok,” she says before pressing play. 

“Ok what?” 

“Ok I’ll think about it,” she says. 

“Larissa, you’re being impossible,” he groans. 

“Carter, I have a really hard time putting myself out there,” she says quietly. 

Carter sighs. “Fine. We’ll draw this out for as long as physically possible.” 

Lardo pretends not to hear him. She doesn’t have the mental stamina to talk through the history of her love life and why people don’t just fall for her. They don’t, and she won’t pretend that they do. Not again.  

_/.\\_ 

 

Ozzy drags her to the world’s largest ferris wheel one Tuesday night when they have nothing better to do. He buys her a drink. It’s an amaretto sour with a twist of cherry lime soda. It’s her favorite drink. She didn’t realize that he knew that. 

“Of course I do,” he says. 

Apparently she said that out loud.

“Are you ok?” Ozzy says. “You’ve been weird lately.” 

“Rude,” she says to defuse some tension. “I am always being weird.” 

“You’re pushing me away,” he says. “It kinda sucks” 

Oh, she thinks. It’s a serious kind of conversation.

“I’m sorry—”

“You know you’re one of my favorite people,” Ozzy says. “I want to spend time with you.” 

“I-,” she falters. “Ok, yea I’m sorry.” 

“That’s it?” 

She winces. “What do you want to hear?”

“Why?” 

She takes a long sip of her drink. Her breath is shaky. Most people would make her look them in the eye, but Ozzy won’t force her. It’s why—  

“I love you,” she says. “I’m in love with you.” 

Lardo feels like an idiot for saying so. She wipes a tear away as she laughs. 

“And I thought I only sort of liked you,” she rambles. “I thought I could get over it but—” 

He cuts her off with a kiss. She closes her eyes as she gets on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck as he kisses her again. His lips are soft and dry. He somehow manages to be purposeful yet gentle with every movement. He kisses her until her lips feel numb and her eyes are blurry from crying. Crying, that’s what she’s doing. Because people don’t just want her back. That’s nothing something they do. She has to fight for and earn the right kind of attention. Good people don’t just fall into her lap. 

“I know I like you,” Ozzy says. “I think I love you. But I need to go slow.” 

She nods, swallowing thickly. 

“But I want you, Larissa,” he whispers. “I don’t know how to say that any clearer.” 

Lardo snorts. “Maybe say it out loud.” 

“I want you,” he says again, his lips ghost over her ear. 

She kisses him this time. Because she knows he wants her. Because she’s still terrified that he’ll wake up in a week and realize he isn’t in love with her. But she’d be stupid not to take this risk. She’d be stupid not to enjoy this moment. Lardo’s a lot of things—stubborn, emotionally constipated…guarded from a laundry list of bad relationships. But she isn’t stupid. 

Ozzy smiles halfway into their kiss. It feels like sunshine.  _ They _ feel like hope.   

**Author's Note:**

> Check out what else is going on for Lardo Week in our [AO3 Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/lardo_week_2018) and [on Tumblr!](https://lardo-week.tumblr.com/)


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